a Capuchin monk preaching. His concluding apostrophe to the image of Christ was really beautiful and fervent, penetrated by a feeling for the Crucified. The participators in the Via Crucis were few and indifferent.
In the evening we sat in the Scandinavian Christmas club, with wreaths of ivy round our heads, had a laurel tree instead of the Christmas pine, ate excellent porridge, and heard speeches of no great mark, excepting one from the Danish Archæologist, Professor Ussing, who spoke cleverly, beautifully, and well, on the solemnities of Christmas and our earthly home, of the great Christmas tree of the world, which extends its crown to the stars of heaven. We had, also, Christmas presents, conversation with our friendly, polite countrymen, and good music from the amiable Danish composer, Raonkilde. We went home at eleven o'clock, in the loveliest weather. The streets were thronged with people, who, during the whole night, are in movement, going from church to church admiring the lighted chandeliers, the silken draperies, and other splendors with which the churches here are hung on all festivals, and as much as possible made to resemble worldly drawing rooms.
On the 29th of December, I went to hear the child-preaching which is continued in the Ara Cœli church from Christmas day till the thirtieth of the month, and ranks amongst the smaller notabilities of Rome.
Just opposite to a splendidly-decorated theatre, where the manger in Bethlehem, with Mary, the child Jesus, Joseph, and, above, God the Father, with legions of angel-heads, are represented, a sort of pulpit
